


Savior

by Babylon (Baby_L0N)



Series: Paved With Good Intentions [4]
Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Diverges from Canon After Lesson 16, Fluff, Gen, Gender-Neutral Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Lesson 16 (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!) Spoilers, My Idea of a Fix-It That Turned Into a Make-It-Worse, Original Non-Binary Character - Freeform, Original Trans Character - Freeform, Post-Coital Cuddling, Surprise Surprise King Solomon is Good In Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:00:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28072848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baby_L0N/pseuds/Babylon
Summary: Solomon just won’t let Paymon bask in the afterglow.
Relationships: Main Character/Solomon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)
Series: Paved With Good Intentions [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1885558
Kudos: 26





	Savior

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fic in celebration of the undateables becoming datable! I hope you enjoy!

You call me a strange girl, yeah

You’re inspecting my bruises, yeah

I got 'em tryin' to save the world

You said, "Girl, you're not Jesus"

\--- Savior (Piano Version) by St. Vincent

They were lying in Solomon’s bed. Solomon was on his stomach, with his grimoire propped open on his pillow. Paymon could hear a faint scratching sound of fountain pen gliding over parchment. They still had no idea how Solomon had managed the energy to move. And get up. And get his stupid journal.

Paymon was still laying helplessly on their back, staring at the ceiling and trying to calm down after their tumble in the sheets.

All the nervous energy bottled up inside of them had been sapped. There were bite marks and bruises all over their body, and they were definitely lying in the wet spot. But they still couldn’t muster up the drive to _move_.

“Did you always have thorns around your seals?” Solomon asked, a lilt in his voice.

“What?” Their voice was wrecked, all raspy and rough. Solomon had gotten them to _scream_ at one point. Paymon honestly hoped Luci killed them for sneaking out to fuck the shady sorcerer, if only so they never had to look Simeon and Luke in the eye again.

“Your seals. The pact marks.” He spoke slowly, as if talking to a child, but the laugh hidden under his words soothed the hurt enough to keep them from bristling. “Usually they are a sigil inside a ring spelling out the demon’s name. Your rings are made of twisted vines, not smooth circles.”

“Oh. I dunno.” They admitted weakly.

“Hmmm…” Solomon set his pen down to turn over and trace Asmodeus’ pact mark on their left breast, being mindful of the scar tissue. All their efforts to calm their breathing and heartbeat were for naught. “I guess it could be a stylistic choice, but I don’t know why Asmodeus’ seal would be one way on me and another on you.”

“Solomon?”

“Yes?”

“Your pillow talk could really use some work.” They were beginning to feel like a frog stretched out for dissection. A small part of them worried that Solomon just fucked them to get an eyeful of their pact marks.

But the majority agreed that if all of this –the chaste kisses, the flirting, _the motherfucking love letters like they were living in 17 th century, holy fuck_–

( _How delightful is your love. Your love is much better than wine, and the fragrance of your perfume than all spices. Your lips drip sweetness like the honeycomb; honey and milk are under your tongue._ You know, I’m not much of a poetry person… _Oh, well, you don’t have to accept it._ No! I’m going to treasure it forever. Back off.)

If it was all so he could see them naked, then he could look as long as he goddamn well pleased.

Solomon laughed and let a comfortable silence fall over them once again. Paymon yawned and used the last of their strength to roll onto their side and cuddle up to him. They breathed in the scent of musky male sex and hoped against hope that they wouldn’t be kicked out anytime soon.

The quiet really stuck out to them for some reason. It was never completely silent in the House of Lamentations. Whether it was the sound of Levi’s videogames, Asmo’s music, Mammon’s shouting, or the sheer volume of Beel’s grumbling stomach, there was always something. The absence of everything was disconcerting.

“Have you gained any new abilities as you’ve racked up more pacts?” It seemed Purgatory Hall had inquisitive wizards to fill that void.

“Oh my God, Solomon! You’re impossible.” They were almost asleep, and everyone knows you can’t tell sleeping lays to get lost. You give them the boot in the morning, like a gentleman.

“Impossibly charming.” Solomon joked, wrapping one arm around them and pulling them just a little bit closer.

“That too.” There was no use denying it. Paymon was certainly charmed.

“Are you ready to talk about what happened?”

That was an ice-cold bucket of water on the growing flame of their good mood. No, they didn’t want to talk about their conversation with Diavolo. No, they didn’t want to talk about the panic attack they had afterwards.

And, no, they didn’t want to walk about what happened afterwards. The arguments both said and unsaid that had Paymon jumping out of their bedroom window and jumping Solomon the second he put his key in the door.

“To answer your question, no, I haven’t miraculously been able to access my magical abilities by collecting more pacts. I do have some passive abilities, though.”

Solomon stared at them for a moment, serene as a winter pond. It left them wondering if they could truly avoid the subject. Luckily, his academic curiosity won out. “Such as?”

“I can tell things about them. Like if they’re close by, what they’re feeling, whether they’re lying… That sort of thing. It… Helps.” It helped them help others, but it didn’t really help them. It was confusing, often leaving them wondering if their feelings were theirs or not.

“Fascinating,” he said softly before scribbling in his magnum opus again. “I’ve never experienced any of that. Then again, I never spend that much time with any one of my pact mates. It makes sense, though. It is a binding…”

“Solomon?” They interrupted, nuzzling into his chest in search of some scrap of affection. He hummed but didn’t acknowledge them any further. “Do you miss anything about… I dunno. Home?”

It felt weird to call it the Mortal Realm or the human world or even Earth. Good or bad, it was home.

“I haven’t had a lot of time to think about it, to be honest. This is a rare opportunity for a sorcerer. I’ve been absorbing as much knowledge and making as many pacts as I can,” he confessed. “What about you? What do you miss most about the Mortal Realm? Maybe we can ease your homesickness a little.”

“I miss wheels… Walking the streets at night... Sunlight.”

“Lord Diavolo could help you with your need for sunlight. He has a personal beach spell-bound to simulate sunlight.”

“Uh huh.” Their dry, indifference did nothing to hide their distaste for the idea of going to Diavolo for anything right now.

“He likes you. Certainly more than he likes me,” Solomon said with a snort.

“He has a funny way of showing it.”

What kind of man traps someone in an alternate timeline because he likes them? But Diavolo wasn’t a man, was he? And when you ask what kind of demon would do such a thing, the question practically answers itself. Everyone was so nice to them… They kept forgetting that these were demons they were dealing with, and common laws of decency didn’t apply to them.

“He seems very sad,” they added after a solid minute of contemplation.

“Hmmm…” Solomon took this moment to put down his pen so he could entwine their fingers together and press a kiss to the back of their hand. Paymon’s heart did a somersault in their chest. “The prince of hell, sad, you say?”

“Maybe not sad,” they reasoned, sounding choked. They were finding it hard to swallow around all of the butterflies trying to escape out their throat. “Lonely is more like it.”

“It must be hard. All that power and responsibility... Everyone walking on eggshells around him... Still, that wasn’t a good excuse for tethering people to you.”

Lucifer came to mind immediately, but it seemed they fell into the same camp. And where Luci went, his brothers followed. Mostly because he kept them on kid leashes, all tangled up around him, but still.

“Will you talk to me after this is all over? Y’know, when we go home?” Paymon whispered, feeling insecure once the warmth of their afterglow wore off. What if Solomon didn’t actually like them? What if he just saw them as the easiest available option when Asmo was busy with his fanbase?

“It’s cute that you think traveling to another realm will get you out of this relationship,” Solomon said in a way that was sweet but also terrifying. “Now, what are you doing tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow is Monday. Why do you ask?” They yawned, starting to doze off again.

“Call in sick,” he insisted. “I’ll take you on an outing back to the human world.”

Now that was tempting. The last time they went to the human realm was to find the witch Grisella to return Luci and Satan back to their original bodies. They barely got to see any of London, and Luci watched them like a hawk the entire time. It was a wonder he didn’t put _them_ on a kid leash. Paymon may have even consented. It would have been kinky.

“I don’t want to get sunburned. My skin hasn’t seen the sun in months.” They weren’t entirely convinced this wasn’t a sleep hallucination.

“You’ve been spending too much time with Asmodeus,” he teased, slipping his grimoire underneath his pillow and giving them all his attention. “I’ll prepare some extra strong sunscreen. Will you do it?”

They shouldn’t. They weren’t awake enough to reason why, but they had a gut-feeling they shouldn’t. Solomon had a tendency of getting them into all kinds of trouble. Then he just slipped away, silent and smiling, the smug bastard, before he could take any responsibility.

But they couldn’t say no. Not to Solomon. And certainly not to sunlight of their cheek, a sensation they missed more than their own father. That was if he even still carried the title, and he hadn’t disowned them without their knowledge.

“Yes. Now could you please turn over? _I_ want to be the big spoon.” The brothers never let them be the big spoon. Most of them were simply too proud. Or they saw something small and soft and warm and immediately delegated it the role of security blanket or teddy bear.

“Oooh, I like it when you’re bossy.” They hoped he wasn’t interested in a round two, because they were already half asleep.

“Now who’s spending too much time with Asmo?”


End file.
